Slave in Golden Bonds
by kembernorton
Summary: the story of Joseph in Egypt, at least my version of it. it will go pretty close to scripture but seeing as we only get the bare bones from the Bible I've added a bit more details in these scenes.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

 **A/N: Quick note here, it was not uncommon for a master to rename their slaves so, claiming litaray license I have decided to have Potiphar rename Joseph 'Kontar' though to keep things simple, I will only use this name in dialogue while continuing to call Joseph by his true name. The meaning and purpose for Joseph's slave name will become aberint in later chapters.**

* * *

Joseph fought against the bonds that held his wrist behind him, the trader noticed the cold-fire of the slave's blue eyes. "Do not look at me with those defiant eyes," Amir said backhanding Joseph, "every time you look at me with that defiant look in your eyes I will have to punish you."

Joseph spit a bit of blood to the ground, _I will never submit to you or this fate,_ Joseph vowed silently as he struggled to sit up.

"Amir, do not damage the merchandise," Abba scolded his son.

"Defiance such as his must be dealt with," Amir said looking at his father. "It must be beaten out of him, a slave such as this one must be beaten into submission."

"That is not our job, my son, bind him, no food or water until I order it."

"That won't do much," Amir muttered as he took out a length of rope, "he doesn't eat as it is."

Joseph continued to walk through the hot desert, the hot wind brought with it grains of sand that whipped and stung his back.

"Drink," Amir ordered as he handed Joseph a wineskin that would help dull the pain that he knew would come when the slave was branded. "You will need the strength for what's to come. My father has no wish for you to die."

"I have no wish to be a slave," Joseph countered turning away.

"Fine, die for all I care," Amir sneered before turning to one of the traders, "do it."

The slaver took hold of Joseph's right arm as he took hold of the white hot knife and painstakingly carved three small words on his arm that would seal his fate. "That will remind you what you are, slave."

Abba watched as his son carved the slave mark into the arm of the young slave. The other slaves had ranged from screaming and crying to fighting, this slave, however merely winced, his cold blue eyes took on a dead distent look.

 _I am dead,_ Joseph thought to himself, _no, I am of the living dead._ Joseph knew that he would never be able to return home, maybe he would be able to make it in Persia, there he may still be alone but at least he would be free.

The rough hemp ropes bit into Joseph's already raw and bloody wrists as he continued to struggle against them. His blue eyes angry and defiant. They were eyes that didn't belong to a slave.

Potiphar walked in front of his overseer, he trusted Abasi but when it came to slaves he liked to be there to judge there character himself, when he spotted an old friend, "Abba," Potiphar called to the slaver as he looked at the slave who nearly glared at him. "Tell me of that slave."

"He is stubborn, my lord," Abba told the captain of Pharaoh's guard as he tilted the slave's chin. "Though given time I am sure that he will submit to his fate."

"Never," Joseph spat, he wasn't able to understand all of what the two were saying but he understood enough to answer, to tell them that he would never submit to a life of servitude.

 _He has a fire in him,_ Potiphar admitted silently to himself. Though under all the pain and anger he saw strength, courage and beneath that the look of betrayed loyalty. If Potiphar could tame the fire in the slave, he would have not only a loyal servent but a devoted warrior as well. "Buy that one as well, Abasi." He told his overseer.

"That slave will cause nothing but trouble, master," Abasi told his master.

"As I recall, my father said the same thing about you," Potiphar reminded him, "just the same, did you just question my judgment?"

"No my lord, of course not."

* * *

Joseph knelt bound to the post just outside of the stable, he should have just killed himself when he had the chance. Death would be better than this, his father already thought him dead, that was the only thin his brothers could have told him.

"What's going on here," Potiphar asked Abasi as he noticed his new slave's raw back.

"He and Hazor got into another fight," Abasi said, "if I had my way I'd kill him. He's not worth the trouble."

"You think me a poor judge of character," Potiphar asked before turning to Joseph, "I paid good money for you, slave, I wish for you to stay and serve me, however if you insist on causing trouble I swear by all the gods of Egypt to sell you to the mines."

Joseph's head jerked up at the word 'sell' no, not again, I won't go through that again, he thought to himself.

"Kuy, take this man to Eshe, have her tend to his wounds and feed him." Turning back to Joseph, "eat something, Slave, I'll not have you falling ill."

Kuy unbound the new slave he could hardly stand but refused to lean on Kuy, as he lead him to Eshe's hut.

Joseph lay on his stomach on the reed mat, Eshe had spread aloe vera on his raw back and had covered it with linen. She was seriously getting sick of tending to this slave's injuries, "Slave, if you have no wish to live, I will not force you to," she said placing a small knife next to him, "here is a way for you to end your suffering if you so choose. If you do choose to remain among the living give up all notions of escape, and serve your master faithfully." Eshe said gitting up, "perhaps this is your penance."

 _Penitence,_ Joseph thought, _for my pride, this is my penitence, I refuse to remain her forever. Ten,_ he decided, _ten years I will stay and will serve, one year for every brother I have harmed, after that, however, I will escape._

* * *

Asaneth had heard that her uncle had bought a slave; most of his servents were royal servents from Pharaoh. Potiphar was wealthy but he didn't often by buy slaves when Pharaoh would give him any number of slaves if he asked. He must have seen something in this one, and she wanted to see it as well.

She entered the hut where Eshe kept the slave that she was looking for as he healed from his last whipping. The hut was dark as she crossed the threshold, the only light came from the dying embers of the fire that offered the only light in the room and seemed to set the mood in the room. The slave lay on he reed mat, his eyes were closed. She didn't know whether to be greatful or not, she had heard that he had the eyes of Ra and was looking forward to seeing them. She turned her attention to his unkempt sandy blond hair and rough unshaven cheeks. He looked both god and demon, as if he were Seth incarnate.

"Eat," she said holding out a piece of bread to the slave. He didn't open his eyes or move at all until she reached for his linen wrapped upper arm.

"Get out," he said in his native tongue. She couldn't understand the words that he was saying but needed no translation to tell her that it was not something a slave would normally say. This young man held none of the docile demeanor of a slave.

Neth protect her, what sort of man was he. "Who are you?" she demanded. As she expected the slave said nothing. He rolled onto his side; Asaneth silently shuddered at the sight of his raw back. Nearly every inch of his back was stripped of flesh, had welts or was scared; the whole of his back was crisscrossed with the welts or scares of one whip lash or another where there was skin. "If you don't eat you will die," she said.

 _Death, would that be any worse then the life that he was forced to live,_ he wondered, it no longer mattered, "my life is no longer my own, it will not end unless Malik wills it," he said, his voice was calm, but Asaneth could see the pain and anger in his eyes and she could sence a seething rage and uncontrollable grief just under the surface. He seemed a wild animal ready and willing to strike out at anyone offering any compassion.

Joseph silently smiled as Asaneth left, for the first time since the betrayal of his brothers; he felt the urge to laugh. How fitting that God would send one of his angels to calm him in his hell. The irony did not escape him as he slowly eat the stale bread.

* * *

His body reviled against the food as it had since he was betrayed, but he forced it down, he had to. As he had told Asaneth his life was not his own it belonged to Potiphar, his master, his Malik. He had to protect his life for his master, it belonged to him and Joseph was just living it.

"You wished to see me, Malik," Joseph asked as always he said master in his native tongue, as he entered the room and knelt in front of his master.

"Ah, yes, I did call, Slave."

Slave, how he hated that word, it stung him. Stung his very soul just as the lash stung his back, and he involuntarily shuddered each time he was called it. This is your penitence, he silently reminded himself. He knew, he knew when he excepted this life when he allowed the slaver to carve the words 'slave til death' what his life would entail. What he was giving up. Though he was no longer a son of Israel and doubted whether he ever would be again, still he would not...could not give up his name. "My lord," he whispered softly, accepting his fate with the silent grace and dignity of a nobleman, not a slave."I know what I am, please do not remind me of a fate I can not escape."

He has changed, Potiphar thought silently to himself. This slave was angry and resentful just a week ago, and he wondered what had happened to him to make him accept his fate. "Then tell me your name and I will never call you slave again," Potiphar said turning to the strange slave with a calm confidence that was uncommon for a slave.

"Joseph, my lord. Before I was sold, my name was Joseph-" he cut off the last three words. He was no longer a son of Israel, and he could never allow anyone to know that he ever was. Joseph son of Jacob was dead, he died the moment his brothers tried to kill him.

"Well, Joseph, I know you were not born a slave, that brand on your arm," as always Joseph unconsciously stiffened and reached for the scar, "it and Abba tell me that you were captured, is that true?"

"In a manner of speaking, my lord," Joseph said choosing his words carefully.

"You do not seem easily captured."

"It seems, I apparently was, but you are right I was not captured in war, neither did the ishmilites take me. It was...someone else who took me, they sold me to the traders." Joseph said trying to hide the truth.

"How did you become a slave, Joseph," Potiphar said, asking the question that Joseph had been dreading. How could he answer without revealing the truth about who he had once been and what had happened? That his own brothers tried to kill him only to trade his life for 20 pieces of silver, that to them he was nothing more than any other animal. He couldn't bring himself to say that his own flesh and blood had betrayed him that way.

He was no ordinary slave, Potiphar realized looking into Joseph's deep blue eyes. He was hiding something, something painful. Being captured and sold as a slave was a painful experience, if not physically then mentally it was anguish. But the pain in Joseph's eyes were pleading as he softly asked, "do you wish for me to lie, Malik?"

"If you lie I will kill you," Potiphar stated.

"Then please do not force me to."

* * *

Joseph walked behind his master, he had learned to keep his eyes lowered. His blue eyes were unnatural in this land and unnerved others.

"I suppose you have already finished the day's work," Potiphar asked.

Joseph stayed silent but nodded. Potiphar wondered why he even asked at times, it had only been three weeks since Joseph had come to his Memphis estate, but Potiphar had quickly learned that he was a faithful servant, even if he did possess the eyes of Ra.

He was alone in Egypt, Potiphar realized, he had no one. Just as Potiphar had during his time in captivity. Don't let him suffer, something within him said. He had long ago learned to trust his instincts, but this time...he was a bit more cautious. Befriend a slave, but isn't that why you bought him?

No, he silently answered himself, I bought him on impulse because he reminded me of my friend, he again reminded himself, yet even as he told himself that he knew it was a lie. He needed a friend, someone he could trust... But a slave, was he insane?

Possibly, war did have a tendency to do that to one, add that to the fact that he knew what it was like to be seen as an object, though he had been a prized object whereas Joseph was a common slave that was no different than the hundreds of other slaves that were bought and sold. But he was different in so many ways, ways that Potiphar was just now starting to realize.

His eyes for one, as well as his overall attitude, it seemed to have completely flipped in the past few weeks, as though he had accepted his fate, but on the rare moments that he caught a glimpse of his Horus eyes he still saw defiance in them.

A test perhaps was in order...


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

 **A/N:** okay so just a reminder sometimes Potiphar calls Joseph Kontar. While Joseph calls Potiphar Malik.

* * *

Joseph sat alone where he had been left to guard his master's horse, "Easy, Nassor, easy boy," he softly said in Aramaic, his native tongue. He always spoke to the stallion in his native tongue, some how hearing the words of his homeland, no matter what they were soothed him. Next to the stallion was the carcass of an old lioness. To be honest, Joseph didn't like staying there, he had already been attacked by the cat and had been forced to kill it. A small growl let him know that he wasn't alone, the beast had a cub it was trying to feed, and that knowledge hurt him even more then the scratches on his arm. "Come here you," Joseph said as he crouched by the lioness' cub and gently scratched its ears, "That's it, I won't hurt you." He allowed a soft chuckle to escape from his lips as the lion kitten began to purr.

"What's this, Kontar?" Potiphar said calling Joseph by his slave name. Joseph knew that his master didn't have to keep his name, but was glad that he did. He only called Joseph by his slave name when they were alone, as they were now.

"Malik," Joseph said looking up at his master, "Please..."

Joseph didn't often ask for things, in fact he had never asked for anything, hadn't said anything at all in fact but the bare minimal since Potiphar had bought him nearly three months ago. "Please," he asked again.

"It is cute, I must admit," Potiphar said, "and it would be nice to have a lion around. Can you control him?"

"Her, my lord."

"What will you call her?"

"Gruit, my lord, for she is but a cub," Joseph said looking at the purring golden cat that lay it head on his lap.

"I do not mind you keeping her, Joseph," Potiphar told him as one of the other slaves returned with Lord Menet, "however if she attacks I will be forced to kill her."

"Yes, my lord, I understand."

* * *

Joseph went to the gardens; it had gotten darker than usual. It was the anniversary of his sell, on this day above all others he longed for his homeland; he always held a longing for home, but this day was even worse; it was a clawing need to see his father just once more. Somehow, Potiphar could sense Joseph's anguish and let him alone for the majority of the day. He watched as Joseph hurried to finish his duties before the sun set, and then retreat to the garden.

As Potiphar entered, Joseph took his usual slave position, kneeling on his left knee with his right arm resting on his right knee and his head bowed, his left fist firmly planted on the ground before him. He usually didn't leave his master's side, he knew he should have asked permission to leave. He knew what he was and that he belonged to Potiphar. Potiphar's will, was his will, Potiphar's word was law.

Joseph dared to to glance at the moonless sky. Even the moon hid behind he clouds, deeming him unworthy of its presence, was he destined to be alone the rest of his life. Was he to be a lowly slave until he died... At least then his brothers' lies would never be revealed.

"You seem down, Kontar," Potiphar said noticing the downcast expression that Joseph wore.

"I feel nothing, Malik," Joseph said banishing the pain he felt, "I am but a slave, an instrement of your will. A mere tool, who will unquestionably obey you with unwavering loyalty, I feel nothing but that which you tell me. Your will is mine, my lord."

"Joseph, I know that you will obey me." Potiphar said looking at Joseph. _He isn't lying,_ Potiphar realized as he red the truth in Joseph's blue Horus eyes, _he would lay his on the line and even kill himself I ask him to._ "Why you would choose to be a servant rather then have one is a mystery to me, and I don't deny the fact that you are more trustworthy then others who would just as quickly obey another master as they would me," Potiphar said putting his hand on on Joseph's shoulder. "I have learned to stay out of the affairs of the commoners and servants, but when your heart screams out in pain, that is when I will not sit back and see you suffer. What is troubling your soul?" Potiphar again asked.

Joseph closed his eyes before looking at his master and asked, "Do you see the moon, it looks down on us completely unaware that it is what keeps me from running, oblivious to the fact that it is what keeps me in hiding. I need only look at the moon and I remember why I knelt in silence when I was scared." He said involuntarily holding onto his slave marked arm, "a whole year has passed, Malik and I am still your slave. I still hide, deep inside my heart who I am, and prey to God to both live and die."

"I think you just broke your record," Potiphar chuckled softly then spoke, "you don't have to hide, Kontar, I know that you are no slave. Deny it as much as you like, but there is nobility in your blood. If you wish to remain in my service until you find your answers I will allow you to, I ask only that you share your answers." Potiphar said before turning to his own problems. "Lady Zulika wishes to have a feast in celebration of the anniversary of her nieces birth." He told Joseph, "I trust you'll see to the preparation."

* * *

Joseph woke in a cold sweat yet again, would he ever again have a restful night sleep. The night was the only time when his heart was free to wander, and every night that he slept he was forced to relive the pain of his betrayal in his dreams. Dreams, they got him in this mess in the first place, he could still hear Simeon's sneering, "May you die, and your dreams along with you."

"Judah!" he yelled as his eyes flashed open and he ripped the woven reed-mat that he used as a blanket. After a few deep breaths to calm his nerves, "it was just a dream," he softly mumbled to himself making sure that no one would be able to hear him and if they did that they wouldn't be able to understand his words. "just a stupid dream. Get a hold of yourself," he ordered himself as he walked to the small pond to wash of the cold sweat that now covered him.

"Whatever I did to make you so angry, brother, I am sorry, so sorry."

Potiphar stood in the shadows, he could only understand about half of what Joseph said, quietly he crept out of he shadows and asked, "Trouble sleeping?"

Instantly Joseph returned to is slave role, he quickly dropped to his knees and bowed.

"I am sorry if I have disturbed you, my lord."

"Something wrong, Kontar?"

"No, my lord, I simply come out here to think at times."

"Joseph, I vaguely remember telling you something about lying to me."

 _Death,_ Joseph thought to himself, would death be such a horrid fate. Would it be any better or worse than the living dead existence that he now endured?

 _You can't_ , Joseph thought to himself, _your life no longer belongs to you, it is no longer yours to end._

"You were speaking earlier, what did you say?"

"I...I can't tell you," Joseph whispered softly, "I can't tell anyone. The truth may set me free, but it would kill my father."

Potiphar had always wondered about Joseph's family, and what kind of a man raised him to be able to sacrifice his own life out of honor.

* * *

Joseph looked up at the rising sun, he had just finished the previous day's work, it seemed he wouldn't sleep tonight. Perhaps it as for the best, night was a time he feared having nothing to do, he had at least survived this night without unwanted memories assaulting him as they did every night he slept. As he leaned his back against the date tree that he would have to harvest soon, he would have went to the barn to rest as usual, but Potiphar was still in the capital and Nessor was with him and his absence would only saddened him.

Joseph woke to the sound of some one calling his slave name, "Kontar." He knew that it was his master, he alone called him Kontar.

"Malik," Joseph said instantly fully awake and on his left knee, his right arm resting on his right knee, his head bowed, "I was unaware that you had returned."

"It is alright, Joseph," Potiphar said calling Joseph by his true name. He never called him by his slave name if anyone was within earshot. He didn't know what had happened to the young man, but he instinctual knew that the slave clung to his name like a lifeline, especially during those first few weeks, even now he only answered to his own name unless it was Potiphar who spoke. "I had not meant to wake you."

"It is alright, Malik," Joseph said looking at the sun, "I should have woken earlier anyway. With you here, Nassor will need to be cared for." Joseph added as he got up.

"Joseph, you need to sleep," Potiphar told him as he placed his hand hon Joseph's shoulder.

Joseph instantly tensed at the contact as he said, "I doubt you bought me to sleep, Lord Potiphar."

"Neither do I need a weak servant," he said, "get something to eat then get some rest. I am not expecting anyone, nor am I going anywhere for the rest of the day." Potiphar told him, letting him know that he would not be disturbed in the barn.

"Thank you, Malik," Joseph said, he still didn't trust many and didn't like others to see him asleep and vulnerable, he had thought he had found a save place for a nap since the dates were not to be harvested for another week.

* * *

Kuy watched as Joseph entered the barn where he had just stabled Potiphar's prized stallion. He had seen Joseph on hour ago by the date trees, some one must have disturbed him; for most slaves, only in there dreams were they free, but for Joseph... It seemed he was more free as a slave in whatever dream he would have, as a result he did his best not to not sleep. So Potiphar had ordered that no one was to disterb him unessasaraly, not even Potiphar disterbed him when he found Joseph resting in the late afternoon. He would simply cover him with a linen sheet and let him lie.

"Kuy," Potiphar called to him.

"Yes, milord."

"How long has it been, since Joseph came here?" Potiphar asked.

"Nearly a year, why?"

"Has he told you anything of his past." As a rule, slaves did not confide in thier masters, and usualy did bond closely to other slaves in the household they were bound to.

"Not much," Kuy said, "I think he had a traumatic event happen to him recently. You know how he sometimes sleeps outside side in the afternoon; I think it has something to do with what happened to him. When he sleeps inside at night, none of us get any sleep."

"What do you mean?"

"The gods do not deal kindly with him in the dreamscape," Kuy told Potiphar as he looked over to the stable wher he could hear Nessor nickering.

"Has he said anything about it?"

"No, my lord, Joseph is a very privet person. He is not one to tell anyone anything, as you well know. However I believe that he feels guilty about something."

"Why do you say that?"

"One of the few things that I can understand is 'sorry, I am sorry'"

"Thank you, Kuy."

* * *

Joseph entered Potiphar's reception hall, "Lord Rachmeara here to see you, my lord."

"He's late, show him in, Kotar," Potiphar said. Joseph left but hesitated at the door. "Something wrong, Joseph?" Potiphar asked. How had he come to rely on the slave in such a short amount of time.

"It's nothing, Malik," Joseph said turning to face Potiphar. Joseph always held a touch of sorrow in his brilliant blue eyes, but now there was another tint in them...one of concern. He was honor bound to protect his master yet he couldn't risk accusing a nobleman without proof and even then it would be risky, "just a feeling." he said as he went to bring in Rachmera.

Joseph knelt in the shadows across from Potiphar. It was not uncommon for his master to forget that as a slave, Joseph was forbidden to leave without leave to go. So he would just remain, this had always annoyed Potiphar. He was use to his men coming and going as needed, but it seemed that Joseph refused to forget his place even if his maser did at times. He always over heard his master's conversations, but Potiphar didn't mind, he knew that Joseph wasn't fool enough to betray him, not after his past.

"What is th progress?" Potiphar asked.

"Victory, my lord, with 300 new captives. With so many strong men I am sure you are going to sell this Hebrew dog." Potiphar intently shot a glance to Joseph who had suddenly gone ridged from the memories that instantly flooded his mind. A subtle nod from Potiphar gave Joseph leave to go, but he heard Potiphar firmly say, "I will never get rid of Joseph unless he asks for his freedom."

* * *

Joseph entered the garden, it was one of the few things that gave him true comfort. There he stood alone until Potiphar ended his meeting and came to see how he was doing, "I'm sorry about that, Kontar."

"Don't be, you know as well as I that I remain a slave by choice, and I knew the risks I took when I chose this life," Joseph said as he walked behind Potiphar and a bit to his right. "May I speak, my lord?" Joseph asked softly

"You needn't ask to speak, Kontar," Potiphar said, "but speak," he added when it became apparent that Joseph had no intention of speaking without permission.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Keeping me, I couldn't live through another sale, I'd rather die than go through that again," Joseph said solemnly.

"Don't worry about that, Kontar, I will never sell you. I've sworn to Ra to never get rid of you until you ask to return home."

"Thank you, Malik," he said, "But that will never happen," he said touching the palm tree next to him, "I have no reason to return."

"Your lips say you have no wish to return but your eyes tell a different story."

"I never said that I had no wish to return," Joseph said, "I just can't."

"Anyway Rachmera brought a message from my wife," Potiphar said, he always confided in Joseph. He had told the truth when he said that he chose this life, and he had chosen to be a slave to Potiphar. Potiphar was sure that Joseph had a way of escaping if he wanted to, and in truth Potiphar would let him if he tried, but he never did. At times Potiphar would purposely leave him with ways of escaping and then bet his friends on whether or not Joseph would still be waiting when they returned, he always was. Once he left Joseph for a week only to return to find Joseph restless and tired, even Gurit was on edge. The lioness cub paced at his bare feet just as she did now.

"Lord Potipharah will be coming..." Potiphar began, but Joseph ceased listening, he knew that Potiphar held no love for his brother-in-law, and he needed to get some things off his chest and trust that it would not be repeated. So Joseph simply knelt scratching the cub's golden fur.

* * *

Lord Potipharah arrived at the estate late the next morning, apparently Lord Potipharah was a high priest in Heliopolis. "My dear sister, how I have missed you," Lord Potipharah said as he hugged Lady Zulika.

"Welcome, Lord Potipharah," Potiphar said politely, but Joseph could tell there was no love between the two. One look told Joseph all about him, told him that he was vicious and ruthlessly exploited the weaknesses of others. He had to sneak and connive his way to power. He only cared for those that could be useful to him; he knew little of those that were of no use to him and cared even less.

And unlike Abasi, Joseph knew that this man could hurt Potiphar politicly if he wanted to, Joseph would have to keep an eye on him without his knowing it. It was not a slave's place to watch a lord; it was their job to serve and obey as Racmera did, not to think.

"Joseph," Potiphar said as he noticed the intensity in Joseph's eyes. On paper, the bill of sale that proved that Joseph was his, he had been named Kontar. At the time Potiphar used that name because he couldn't think of any other, only now was he beginning to see how true the name was and how well the name fit the slave that had quickly be come a son to him. The name,'only son' fit well.

"I shall tend to the horses, Malik." Joseph said walking towards the stable, the golden cub trailing after him.

"Is that the one, Rachmera?" Joseph heard Potipharah ask.

"It is, My lord."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

 **AN: sorry for the delay school just started but I will try to post a chapter every Wednesday, thanks for reading, rates and reviews also welcomed.  
**

* * *

Lady Zulika sat next to her niece and some of the other ladies of the court.

"Joseph," Kuy called as he spotted Joseph in the stable talking to Nessor. Joseph didn't want to talk to Kuy right now; he knew what he was going to say. The same thing that he had been ordered to say, "Lady Zulika has called for you."

"Somehow I knew that he'd say that," Joseph said turning from the stallion.

"Egyptian, Joseph."

"I didn't say anything," Joseph assured his friend as he switched to Egyptian and left.

He entered the dining hall and started serving Zulika and her guests. As soon as he entered, a hush fell over the crowd before the women started whispering to each other, "he is no mortal man but an angel."

"Or a god," another woman added.

Only Asaneth remained silent, staring at his crystal blue eyes, they were so sad, yet somehow strangely wise. She could see the torment in his Horus eyes. Within those eyes, she saw the sorrow and betrayal that she saw the first time she had seen him, but the rage within him had dissipated over the last year.

"Am I now free to go, Malika," he asked. Asaneth could tell he disliked to have to ask and noticed that he somehow was more comfortable talking to Potiphar.

"What say you ladies, shall we let him go?"

"Aunt Zulika, it would be a crime to mar his perfection. Lord Potiphar has ordered him to feed the horses, I was wondering if I might go and see the horses as well."

Joseph led Asaneth to the stables, "hey boy," he said in Aramaic as Nessor danced in his stall, "miss me, did ya?" the stallion whinnied in response.

"What did you say?" Asaneth asked softly as she walked towards the chestnut stallion, who pawed the ground at her intrusion.

"Easy boy, calm yourself." He said before switching to Egyptian, "nothing really, I always speak to him in my native tongue. Don't worry, I won't say anything bad about you, I promise," he said as he continued to pet the horse.

* * *

Joseph walked with his master as well as Lady Asaneth, she was beautiful, he turned away knowing that he had no right to even look upon her. "Joseph" he heard Potiphar call.

"Malik," he sad as he knelt in front of his master.

"Lady Asaneth wishes to visit the temple of Neth you will accompany her," Potiphar ordered, ignoring the protests of Racmera and others who wondered if it was a wise idea to leave a male slave in the company of a noblewoman or if the slave would even return.

"Malik," Joseph said cautiously, he could not disobey his master but neither could he enter a pagan temple.

Sensing Joseph inner turmoil, he added, "do not enter, wait outside."

"Yes, Malik."

* * *

Joseph had subconsciously slipped back to the level of servitude that he held when he had first excepted his fate. Asaneth watched him as he sat alone, aloof from even the other servants and slaves. Last night one of his old injuries had reopened and started bleeding, but he did nothing to try to stop the blood. "Your bleeding," Asaneth said as she looked at him.

He looked down at his arm and said in a voice that betrayed no emotion, "Yeah, I suppose I am. It'll stop."

"Did it hurt when it happened?" she asked, assuming that it was a battle injury. He had to he one of Potiphar's warrior. Despite how she had first seen him, the only explanation for why he trusted Joseph so much. He was not a trusting man and he trusted this man even more than some of his warriors. Still the question remained, how did a warrior that her uncle trust become his slave.

Joseph looked back at his injured shoulder and remembered how he had reserved his wound, back in the pit that his brothers put him in. As he stayed there one of his brothers had decided to pass the time by throwing rocks at him. His shoulder took the brunt of the damage. "No," he lied getting up and moving to stand near the stern of the boat, "it didn't."

"What was he before?" Asaneth asked herself aloud.

"It doesn't matter what I was," Joseph said in an emotionless voice that she was getting used to hearing from him, "only what I am."

"Do you miss your family," Asaneth asked, Joseph turned from her, he had always been able to keep his pain out of his voice but not never his eyes.

"I don't think of them anymore," he said hiding the pain he felt, the bittersweet memory of his brother's birth and mother's death, "they have their lives, I have this."

"It's an honor to be Lord Potiphar's slave," Asaneth said.

"To be a slave to any man is to be this dog," Joseph said letting her hear the pain within him. He shouldn't have spoken so harshly to her, and he knew it. However, if he could not have her, could not love her, he knew that it was best to have nothing to do with her. He couldn't have anything to do with her, he didn't have the strength to be close to her and not have her.

* * *

Zulika looked at Joseph as he knelt in front of her. He would do anything for her, merely because, as a slave, he was obliged to, would do anything except the one thing that he wanted him to do.

"You called me, Malika," Joseph asked calling her 'misstress' in his native tongue just as he did Potiphar, half-annoyed that she would call him again simply to look at him.

"Come with me, love," Zulika said as she turned toward the garden, yet Joseph remained. He always remained when he was ever called anything other than his name the only exception to that was when Potiphar called him 'Kontar.'

Kuy had told him that the name meant 'only son' and he may be a slave, but he did his best to live up to the name.

"Joseph!" she called again, "come."

Silently she led him to the garden, the cool breeze pierced him through his thin coat to his chest and arms as he followed Lady Zulika to the stone bench where she sat. As always, he waited until she sat before he knelt on one knee in front of her.

"What do you want from me, Malika?" he asked wanting nothing more than to return to the barn. He had left Gurit alone for far too long today and knew that if the cat was loose while he slept she would make sure that no one disturbed him. No one ever bothered him when the cub was near, after all, he was the only one who could control the cat.

"Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers to?" she countered as she walked behind him and reached around and felt Joseph's biceps.

She felt good, how he wished that she were his fate rather then the one he had, Joseph quickly seized her hand and whispered softly, "Malika, please cease, I beg you not to flaunt that which I can never have."

"And who said it can't be yours?" she asked revealing herself to him, "It's just a little innocent pleasure," Lady Zulika purred.

"Innocent pleasure," Joseph said, his voice trying to hide the rage he now felt. "I have seen the consequences of this 'innocent pleasure'. I have seen an entire city utterly destroyed because of this innocent pleasure. Every man was killed, the children taken as slaves, the women taken as concubines. I have seen a father disinherit his eldest son because of innocent pleasure with his concubine. What do you think a master would do to a slave for having innocent pleasure with his wife?" Joseph asked leaving, without permission, "he would kill me."

It was the first time he had done anything motivated by any hint of self-preservation, but more than that, he would not reduce himself to Rube's level. He knew full well the wrath a man had when defending what was his, and Lady Zulika was his master's. To take that from him would be the worst betrayal that he could think of, he wouldn't do that. Potiphar trusted him with all that he had, Joseph answered to no one at the estate save Potiphar himself, and not even Potiphar exerted any real control over him. To take his wife would to truly take his place. Over the years, out of necessity Joseph had become many things. As the yeas had passed Joseph had fallen deep into the role of slave, he had shut himself off from everything even his own emotions, but if nothing else he was loyal.

Zulika watched as Joseph walked away, as she followed the path that he walked

"Joseph, stop," he could hear his mistress calling, he knew that he should heed her order, but he knew that obeying her was not something that he could not...would not do that to his master. He could feel the tug of Zulika trying to stop him from leaving by taking hold of his coat.

This was is last year in servitude, they would be able to hide the affair for a month before he left. Potiphar would not look for him. He had already offered him his freedom. But... He couldn't... Wouldn't betray his master as his brother had his father.

He continued to walk, he heard the rip of the linen coat he wore, and instinctually he knew that the future that he had hoped and preyed for...a future where he was free had been ripped from him as well.

How much was destined to be ripped from him, his home, his family, the beloved coat that his father had gotten for him, his freedom, now it seemed his life would be taken from him.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

 **A/N: since I'm not nuts on naming God, God, in my stories I have decided to call him Adoni, a true way of addressing god in the old testament.**

* * *

Joseph knelt in front of Potiphar, his life hung in the balance. _Speak,_ an impulse told him.

 _No,_ he silently yelled at himself, _I won_ _'t put Malik in that positions. He had been too good to me._

"I thought I could I could trust you." Potiphar nearly growled as he dug his dagger under Joseph's chin forcing Joseph to look him in the eyes. Potiphar hadn't called Joseph slave since he had been told his name, 'slave was a word that was never uttered. Joseph knew what he was and he didn't need a reminder. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, Slave. I want to see those Horus eyes of yours when you talk/" Potiphar said softly in a deadly calm voice.

Joseph, however, remained silent, he had to. To protect his master, just as he had his brothers for the last ten years, but then he never really did have to speak for his master to know what he was thinking or feeling. He was one of the few who was able to decipher the subtle shades of his eyes.

As Potiphar looked at his slave's eyes and saw the truth in their haunted depths, and Joseph knew it. His eyes always were windows to his tortured soul, that mow shown only nervous tension without a hint of guilt. He turned away and stayed silent, what else could he do. If he confessed he would be killed, if he denied, his master would force his master to choose between himself and his wife. He refused to do that to his master in that position. If he remained silent there was a chance that his life might, at least, be spared.

"Kontar, please, if you don't deny what my wife says then I will be forced to do something that I don't want to." Joseph turned away again, no longer able to look at the man who had been so good to him how had named 'only son'. "If you stay silent you are condemning yourself to death," his master strained.

Joseph continued to look away but softly whispered, "then kill me if you must, but I won't deny anything/ I am but a slave, an instrument of your will, think of me as a tool to be kept at your side and used as you see fit. And when I have outlived my usefulness...do with me as you will.

Well, it was up to God now, he had done all he could do.

"I vaguely remember you saying something like that when I gave you your position." Potiphar chuckled at his memory.

"I could never betray you, Malik," Joseph said, "Even if it meant my own life."

"Then why are you forcing me to destroy you?" Potiphar asked, but deep inside himself, Potiphar knew. He knew that to Joseph, his life meant nothing, to the slave he lived for one reason only, to serve his master. Closing his eyes and heaving a sigh of resignation Potiphar crouched at Joseph's side and placed his hand on Joseph's shoulder careful of the open whip wounds that covered his back, before he spoke, "this has been made to public Kontar, the law must be upheld. You belong to me still, it may offer some protection to you until I can figure out a way to get you out of this mess." swallowing Potiphar continued, "I once swore by Ra not to get rid of you until you ask for your freedom, at the moment that vow can not be upheld, but it will. When the time comes...when the time comes you will be remembered, this I swear by the god whose eyes you hold. You will not be forgotten Joseph, you will be remembered.

Standing Potiphar clapped twice summoning the Nubian guards, "take him to the pharaoh's prison

Joseph bowed his head again, is back once again exposed by the whip. He would never leave, he knew now that he was going to die here in Egypt as nothing more than a slave.

* * *

Joseph sat in the prison alone, his wrists bound to the wall as a length of chain bound his ankles to the same wall. Why had his god not protected him as he had his father and grandfather, Joseph wondered as one day gave way to the next?

 _At least your not dead,_ he thought as he looked at the moon. He knew that his father and family thought him dead; he'd never thought much of death before, at least not after Eshe had offered him a way to end his life. But that night, for the first time in his life as a slave, he again felt the all consuming darkness that tore at his heart and soul that had nearly destroyed him when his brothers had turned on him. The small flicker of faith was dying and it wouldn't be long before he followed.

 _I can't die,_ his soul silently cried out, _father, please help me, help me understand._ As his heart pleaded with the darkness that tried to destroy him, _man cannot always grasp the ways of God, all we can do is trust in Him._

 _Yes,_ Joseph thought to himself, _I am a slave._ His life was not his own but as the words filtered through his mind he realised that it was true his life was not his own, it along with the life of his brothers, father and even Potipar's they all belonged to God. His fate was not his, not his to control, not his to end either. Not even Potiphar could end his life without his God's consent.

"Adoni, Lord God of my fathers, grant me your mercy. I have nothing of worth to offer you, do with me as you will, I beg only that you do not abandon me for if you do, I shall surely die."

Instantly he felt the glow of hope within him grow.

Joseph looked overhead at the moon in the starry night sky., it reminded him of the stories that he had nearly forgotten over his years of servitude. Tales that his father had told and retold him over the years of his childhood, tales of his grandfather Issac and great-grandfather Abraham.

How long had it been since he had walked free, it seemed forever. At times, he prayed for God to have mercy on him and grant him death,

Joseph walked as far as his chains would allow and stood under the grated ceiling, mocking him. Each morning it shone brightly, he couldn't even bare to look at the sun that shone overhead that seemed to mock him as if it knew that he would never again bask in its glorious rays.

* * *

Days turned to weeks which turned to months, Joseph watched as prisoners came, were punished and released, yet he remained...always he remained. As time passed he lost track of it, how long had he been in prison, three months, five, seven...there was no way to tell. He sat in the darkness, his wrist bound to the wall by a length of chain. He twisted his bloody wrist under the ridged cold steel of his bonds. He watched as Potiphar walked through the dark prison. He usually stopped at the various prisons for Pharaoh, but it was the first time he was forced to see Joseph in chains, chains that he had placed him in. How could he of allowed this to happen, he had been nothing but loyal to him.

"Good day to you, Malik," Joseph whispered from the shadows that he seemed to become a part of. As usual, his voice was meek and mild, yet it still held the fire and spirit that had first drawn Potiphar to Joseph in the first place.

"And you Joseph," Potiphar said as Joseph walked as far as his chains would allow, "you seem to be doing alright for yourself," he said, though Potiphar had no doubt that Joseph would survive no matter where he was, and that his God would allow him to thrive.

"As do you, Malik," Joseph said, "I trust the inspection is going according to plan."

"It is," Potiphar said turning away from the man whose only crime was being loyal to him, and this was his reward, his punishment for obeying the law. This young man had done nothing to deserve this punishment and neither did he say anything to deny the accusations against him.

"You know this slave, Lord Potiphar," Hotep asked, completely ignoring the involuntary shudder Joseph always gave, in response to that word.

"Yes, I do, and his name is Joseph," Potiphar corrected sternly.

"Of course, my apologies, but may I ask what he has done to come here?"

"He hasn't told you?"

"No, he hasn't spoken a word since coming here," Hotep said. "It's a shame to confine him like that."

"Oh," Potiphar asked intrigued.

"My scribe is unreliable, I have seen him writing in the sand," Joseph suddenly looked at the warden he had thought he had erased his writings before anyone saw it, "he is unable to leave and can do the accounting."

"Joseph," Potiphar asked as Joseph remained silent, his arms and legs still chained to the wall, "look at me." He had to know if Joseph hated him, he had every right to. Honestly, Potiphar was more surprised at the compassion he saw in the slave's crystal blue eyes.

Joseph saw the underlining question that Potiphar had asked once before, a question that no master ever asked a slave, _what do you want Joseph, should I set you free..._

Joseph turned from his master's sorrowful gaze and whispered, "I may be in prison, but I am still your... Slave. I have told you before, Malik, I am but a slave. An instrument of your will, think of me as a tool to be kept at your side and used as you see fit and when I have outlived my usefulness," he paused looking around the dark cavern, "do with me as you will."

"Hotep, Joseph belongs to me; I care not what he does. If he wishes to, be may assist."

"I shall do as you wish," Joseph said to the jailer, "though I fear I can do little in these bonds."

Hotep had the bonds removed. But swore it would only be for the day if Joseph displeased him, and that Joseph was still his prisoner and would remain so at night. Though Joseph needed no reminder that he was he was less than dirt.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Joseph clenched his teeth against the pain of Hotep unchaining him, two years had passed since Hotep was given control of Joseph, but he held no delusion, Joseph may be a prisoner and slave but he was still master unto himself. And he hated the fact that his duties, aside from reminding Joseph to remember certain things like eating and sleeping, was also inflicting the same pain on him each morning as he unchained him and re-chain him each night so that the some bonds hindered his movements. "Promise that you will eat something today," Hotep said.

"I will," Joseph said, honestly after a week without food he was getting hungry and a bit weak. He had given up food when he first came to prison, in truth if not for Hotep he would have most likely died that first month, but after Hotep had learned that he could right and what a benefit Joseph could be he did his best to keep Joseph alive and healthy enough to take care of the prison.

Since Joseph had taken over, all Hotep had to do was unchain and rechain him.

It was no wonder why he had been serving Potiphar. He had often wondered what he had done to end up in jail; Joseph, however, refused to speak of it. Hotep had heard the rumors, but he didn't believe them, Joseph didn't strike him as a fool. Whatever it was, Joseph was innocent, still he did have to lose eyes that said that he had seen horrific acts, but took part in none Maybe that was it; he may have witnessed something that he shouldn't have. _What was it that this man witnessed to land him here,_ Hotep wondered silently as he watched Joseph eat the food that he gave the other prisoners. Even though he must have been starving he eat slowly, as if savoring every bite, as though he didn't know when he would eat again.

Hotep handed him some meat that his wife had made him, "here."

Joseph hesitated at first, but he was so hungry and he knew he would need the extra strength the meat would give him.

* * *

"You've been here a year," Hotep said softly as he undid the shackles that bound him to the wall, "you look terrible."

"Good, I'd hate to feel this bad and have it be my little secret," Joseph said rubbing his bonds against his already raw wrist from the constant ridged steel of his shackles.

"Have you eaten at all this month?" he asked as he handed Joseph the keys. Joseph had been put in charge of the prison a few months ago and with all the duties and without any help, he forgot to eat more often than not.

"Not sure, I'm generally not hungry," his nearly hopeless voice fit the atmosphere of the prison.

"Generally not hungry" Hotep repeated in disbelief, "only you could come up with that Anyway there are two new prisoners, we need to talk."

They were of high office and Joseph wondered why they were here, "that one is the Hathi the chief cupbearer to the Pharaoh, the other one is the chief baker." Hotep told Joseph.

"Two very important men, how did they end up here," he asked, he was still having trouble with his manner of behaving too much like a slave, but overall he was getting part of the identity that he had lost over the years and he was no longer afraid of questioning his duties.

"Accused of theft," Hotep said softly, "this was also sent for you," he said as he handed Joseph a letter from his master.

After rereading the note again, _Malik, you have remembered me, thank you,_ he thought to himself as he went to tend the baker. He was a stout man with fine linens. He differently loved to sample his work. The cupbearer was a kinder man, he was tall with deep brown eyes that looked nearly black in the dim light.

* * *

"The warden tells me your distinguished guest aren't sleeping very well; I seem that there is trouble with their dreams, strange dreams?" Potiphar asked excitedly, "full of signs."

"They are not alone, Malik."

"As soon as I heard of this I came myself, because I know of your gift of reading the messages of the night," Joseph turned away from his master, he had bad enough of dreams to last a lifetime, "you can't remain silent now that they know you have this special gift," Potiphar urged.

"How do they know," Joseph asked quickly looking to his master for an answer.

"You could never hide those Horus eyes that shed light," Potiphar said, "do this well Kontar, and it will be a valuable ally on the road to your freedom. I swore you would be free again, help me Kontar, help yourself."

* * *

Joseph sat and listened as the cupbearer tell his dream, "three days," Joseph whispered, "you will only be here for three more days, then you will be freed and return to your duties."

"Nice fairy tale, now listens to me slave," Namu said, "in my dream there were three wicker trays on my head full of goods such as a baker would make, but birds were eating."

Joseph knew instantly what the dream meant, closing his eyes he whispered, "on the third day, the Pharaoh will have you killed, and birds will eat the flesh from your bones."

Just as he said, after three days the baker was killed and Hathi was released. But Joseph remained, as always he remained. Countless prisoners came and left, but he remained. He had the freedom to go anywhere he wanted, so long as he remained within the prison. He sat in prison, he couldn't even bare looking at the sun that shone overhead that seemed to mock him as if it knew that he would never again bask in its glorious rays. He had once again been cast into a pit of despair, though he feared that this time the only escape left to him was death.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

 **A/N:** I have placed this version of Joseph in the middle kingdom, under the reign of Senunet the third, but I'm going to simplify it and call her Senunet.

* * *

Senunet stood on the bank of the Nile and watched as seven cows walked up out of the river itself, the grazed on the banks blissfully unaware of the starving gaunt cows that quickly followed them but didn't graze as the first set did rather they turned and devoured the full seven cows. Senunet rose dripping in sweat.

Finally returning to the dreamscape, he watched as a single stalk of grain bore seven beautiful and ripe ears of corn, but as before sprouting up behind the stalk was a black withered stalk of corn that strangled and devoured the good ears.

"Hathi, call for my magicians and wise men," he ordered his butler.

"Yes my lord," Hathi said leaving the king's bedchamber.

Senunet slouched in his golden throne listening to the ramblings of his priest as they retold him the dreams that he had told them for the third time, finally he lost his patience and yelled, "I know what was in the dreams, I had them. Your job is to tell me what they mean."

"We... We do not know majesty," one of the priest admitted as they bowed before the king of all Egypt.

"Then why do I keep you. Oh, I remember, I keep you so you can tell me the meaning of my dreams so they cannot rob me of my sleep," he said as he sent out the priests and whispered to himself, "is there no one in Egypt who can interpret dreams?"

"My Lord," a voice said from the shadows, "I could not help overhearing your dilemma," Hathi said as he handed a cup of wine to his king.

"I suppose you are going to tell me that you have the ability to read messages of the night."

"No, my lord, however, I may know someone how may be able to ease your mind, my king."

"Hathi, I have no wish to discuss this matter."

"Please your majesty, two years now I have failed to live up to a promise made, let me now tell you of the man who helped me, in a dark day."

"Five minutes, Hathi, that is all I am willing to offer you," Sesnunet said, he was many things but his father had instilled loyalty into him as a child.

"Two years ago, I displeased my king, and was placed in your prison," Hathi said hesitantly, he wasn't happy about reminding his lord that he had displeased him in the past as he was in a bad mood at the moment.

"I don't recall, just continue."

"Yes, well, one night I had a dream as did, your late baker who was jailed with me, in fact, we both had extremely strange dreams. The servant that was caring for us was not only able to tell that we were distressed but also the meaning of both of our dreams."

Sesnunet looked at the cupbearer and thought about it. Didn't his father one say that a king that judges quickly does not always judge wisely, "Look at me and tell me the tale."

Hathi looked up and let the king see the truth in his eyes, he knew that if his king saw any deceit in them he wouldn't be sent to prison, simply told him the truth of what happen, that night so long ago.

"You said that this all took place nearly two years ago and only now do you tell me of this?"

"Well truth be told, I was a bit worried that you would be angered if I reminded you of my faults," Hathi said.

"Tell me of the other dream you heard him interpret."

"On the same night that I dreamt of the grapes, the baker dreamt of... Baskets of bread of all things... Anyway, he told Joseph that the birds kept eating the bread from the baskets until there was nothing left."

"And this... Joseph's interpretation came true."

Hathi nodded as said, "just what the mighty Pharaoh ordered."

* * *

Joseph lay on Hotep's cot, the pallet was thicker then the one the other prisoners slept on, he woke with a violent cough, true as assistant to Hotep he did have some privileges, and after he began to fall ill, Hotep had moved him to the guard's servant room. Still he was a prisoner with responsibilities that the others did not have, he was still prone to illness just like any other man. He could tell from the faint light that had begun to filter into his room and the chattering from outside the of his door.

If he didn't get up soon, Amosis would kill him... Then bring him back to clean up the mess, he chuckled at the inside joke that the soldier and he shared. As his violent coughs subsided, he knelt on the dirt ground to pray before he started yet another day, despite being deprived of yet another night of sleep. As always, he offered his prays in the silence of his heart, he had learned long ago that praying aloud in this land only resulted in a beating.

He could feel the aches from the beating one of the newer prisoners had given him.

It was better that he resave the beatings, rather than others; when the prisoners fought among themselves the guards had a bit of a bad habit of either doing nothing about it or betting on them and the outcome.

As he finished his prays the door opened to reveal soldiers, and not the usual prison guards but what looked like palace guards.

Instantly, Joseph grew rigid, frozen with fear as the grabbed him roughly and dragged him thru the door to the antler chamber. They chained his hands behind him and forced his head up by pulling on his sandy blond hair so that the torchlight fell painfully into his sensitive blue eyes.

"Eyes of Ra," the one with the torch said, "this is him."

"Let him go," a voice Joseph never thought he would hear again say, "this man can do things for Pharaoh that no one else can."

"Hathi?" he asked as the hand in his hair released him, "I thought you had forgotten about me."

"only until now," Hathi admitted.

"Keep this up and I'll see you in that prison cell," another voice called from the shadows.

"Malik," Joseph said softly, greeting his master, "why are you here?"

"Pharaoh has had a dream none of his wise men can interpret. Hathi has told him of you and were sent to get you. Come, let's get you cleaned up a bit first."

Joseph stayed silent and only nodded, it only took Joseph a few moments to wash, change and shave.

* * *

As always Joseph walked a step behind his master and to the right, he paused just before stepping into the chariot and shifted the warm desert sand between his toes.

"What are you doing?" Potiphar asked looking at the now grown man doing such a childish act.

"Feeling the sand between my toes, enjoying the sun as it warms my face," Joseph said, "it has been so long, I feared that I would never bask in its rays again."

* * *

The guards and Potiphar bowed to Pharaoh as they entered the throne room, Joseph could feel himself weakening and leaned against the column of the room. He knew that if he broke his consentration on standing he would not be able to regain his footing and stand again, he was weak, too weak and his ankles hurt too much to kneel before any man and rise again. When the guards stood and realized that he had no intention of bowing they struck him forcing him to crumple on the floor.

What Sesnunet noticed was the slave's blue eyes, they had a fire in them. Why had he not blocked the attack, he wondered, why did he allow himself to be abused in such a manner. Was he use to being harmed, the bruises on him spoke of one who was able to fight. He, at first, feared that the hit may have ended the slave's life and the only one able to interpret the dreams that he had, but that thought was quickly squashed when Potiphar knelt by the slave's side and whispered, "Kontar."

"I'm... I'm fine Malik," Joseph said between his caughs.

"Remove his chains and send for my Physician," Sesnunet ordered as Potiphar helped Joseph rise, "as for you two, strike this man again and I will remove your heads."


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

 **I do apologize but as I was rereading this I noticed some minor mistakes and so I did my best to fix them and reload it.**

Nearly three hours had passed since Piea had taken the strange slave out of the throne room, just after the midday meal Senunet decided to check on the slave, if he did die then who knew what would happen. He quietly entered the small room that held nothing but a low table where Piea was mixing some herbs into medicine. On a reed mat next to the wall the slave lay, resting with a linen sheet over him but he was still shivering. "How is he Piea?" he asked.

"He is very ill, my lord," the physician said rising to bow to pharaoh, "another week in that prison and he would have died from sickness in his lungs."

"Is he well enough to speak," Joseph heard Pharaoh's voice; he struggled to sit up but was held down by the aged healer. If he were at his full strength the old weathered hand would not have posed as much of a challenge as a feather but in his weakened state the gnarled hand might as well have been a lion's paw.

That brought to his mind Gurit and he wondered about the small lion cub, had Potiphar kept her, had he cared for the lioness or would it be a reminder of the slave that he had betrayed. He prayed though, prayed that Potiphar had kept and cared for her if for no other reason to up hold Ma' at. Potiphar had known that Joseph was innocent, he had known that Potiphar had known, hopefully Potiphar would care for the cub in hopes of balancing out Ma' at. He was brought back to the present by Piea's words, "so long as he remains _resting_ , he may speak."

Not knowing where else to start, pharaoh spoke, "Potiphar called you Kontar."

"Slave name."

"What was your name before?" he asked.

"Joseph," he coughed, "it was my mother's plea for another child."

"Was she granted one?"

"After many years, though it cost her, her life." Joseph answered closing his eyes against the bittersweet memories of past, "however that was not the reason you have summoned me." He coughed.

"Pharaoh, he must rest, now."

"When will he be able to speak at court?"

Before Piea was able to answer Joseph spoke, "I beg my lord's forgiveness, his unworthy servant will be better on the marrow by midday, my lord."

"Are you sure," pharaoh doubted considering how weak he looked.

"I wouldn't put it pass him, my lord," Potiphar's voice said as he entered the room, "this man has an uncanny ability to suppress illness when needed."

Potiphar volunteered to look after Joseph throughout the night, he watched as joseph's past again tormented his sleep, preventing him from finding rest. It wasn't long before he woke in his usual cold sweat. "Trouble sleeping," Potiphar asked knowingly. Even as a slave he didn't sleep well in the house and always preferred to sleep in the open air outside. Sitting up Potiphar heard joseph's chains rattle as he moved. Taking the key from the table he moved over to unlock Joseph's shackles, "the garden is not far, Kontar." Potiphar said as had lead Joseph to one of the smaller gardens that were in pharaoh's palace, knowing that Joseph would never complain he had took a seat on the first bench that he came to next to one of the few trees. Looking at the moon he softly spoke, "the moon was full that night as well," he had told his former slave and son, "I have thought about that night many times over the years."

"As have I, in prison, Malik," Joseph told him as he lay against a nearby tree.

###

As the sun rose past the time for the morning meal, a young servant boy knelt in front of Potiphar and relayed the massage that he had, "Lord Potiphar, Pharaoh has called for you."

Potiphar looked over to Joseph who looked so relaxed in rest, misreading the silent message that had passed between master and slave the servant spoke again, "I will stay and ensure that the slave does not escape.'

"He will not leave until I give him leave to do so," Potiphar said, "right Joseph."

"As ever, Malik," Joseph said, "I just need to rest." How long had it been since he had been able to rest without his movements being hindered by chains, he wondered, far too long that was for sure.

As the sun passed its zenith, Joseph was awakened by someone's foot nudging him awake, "will I never be able to rest," he asked himself in his native tongue as he stood.

"The pharaoh has called for you," the messenger said as he led Joseph to the throne room

Senunet stood in the small reception room finishing up his duties, as the sun reached its zenith he excused himself for the midday meal with Potiphar before summoning the slave

###

Joseph walked thru the pillars to the throne room. Joseph knelt in front of pharaoh next to him was his cupbearer well that explained how he was here, but he still wondered why. On the other side of pharaoh was master Potiphar, he wore his best linens and gold collar. Joseph could feel his master's eyes gazing at him.

"I hear you have the gift of second-sight," the pharaoh said steadily.

"Only when Elohim wills it, my lord," Joseph said softly being sure to keep is head bowed. Yet his voice still held the confidence that Potiphar knew came from his God.

"And does your god _will_ an answer for me?" pharaoh asked.

"I imagine we shall soon see," Joseph said rather solemnly with the authority of his God, even Potiphar smirked at that. He always did respect Joseph's ability to put his confidence in his God, and not caring about himself.

"Your life depends upon what we shall see," pharaoh said as he turned and started to retell his dreams for the umpteenth time.

Joseph closed his eyes and waited before he spoke, his voice was calm and steady; unlike any slave that pharaoh had ever seen or heard of for that matter. He spoke with the authority of his god as if he were merely a vessel and his God spoke thru him, as he told the king the meaning of his dreams.

Potiphar stood by Joseph as he told pharaoh the interpretation of his double-dream "God is telling you what he is planning to do. The seven good cattle and the seven good ears of corn represent 7 years of plenty, the 7 starving cattle and 7 withered ears of grain means 7 years of famine will follow.

"You must take action now while there is still time, my lord," Joseph said, "you must find a wise and honest man and set him above the land of Egypt, have him collect a-fifth of the harvest and then during the famine give it back to the people."

"It would never work. Besides I know my people they would cheat all of them," pharaoh said as he leaned back in his throne.

"It is possible, my lord, if a wise and honest man were given this job and the authority to do it," Joseph said as pharaoh gave him leave to go. _This slave spoke unlike any slave I have ever known, who was he and how did he speak with such…such confidence_ , pharaoh wondered, as he gave Joseph leave to go.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

 **Sorry but when rereading this chap I noticed a few mistakes so I hope I got them all and you all like it just as much. Let me know, thanks.**

Joseph woke to the sensation of someone nudging him, it had been years since he had a good night's sleep, "get up, slave," he heard. His eyes flashed opened in rage, the jailer had called him slave once but after Potiphar told Hotep his name, he had never again called him slave. "The pharaoh is calling for you."

Joseph knelt in front of Potiphar and pharaoh, as pharaoh said, "Your plan is good and I give you the job of setting it into motion. Your name shall be Zapanapanar."

"As you wish my lord," he whispered, not knowing what else to say.

Potiphar walked with Joseph as they left the palace, "your God has made you ruler, even of me," Potiphar whispered with a small chuckle.

"My lord," Joseph asked his former master stunned by the sudden turn of events.

"Joseph, you answer to no man save pharaoh," Potiphar said as he and Joseph entered a large estate. _His_ estate, not one he ran for someone else, one that belonged to him.

Potiphar and Kuy stood in front of Joseph, "you two are the only ones that know of my past aside from Pharaoh.

"The two guard that were sent for you have been paid handsomely for their silence and I doubt Hathi would risk his neck in telling where he found you," Potiphar told his former slave, "Senunet himself only knows that you were my slave and that you came from one of the northern tribes in Canaan, I have told him nothing else."

"And I thank you for that, Malik," Joseph said, "Pharaoh is doing all he can to make me Egyptian; new name, titles, honors…But Zapanapanar cannot simply appear."

"I suppose everyone was a bit too preoccupied…" Kuy mumbled to himself, "What do you wish from us?"

"Lord Potiphar, you brought me to Pharaoh, logic dictates that you will be the first to be contacted, though a nobleman may send a commoner to you, Kuy, for Egypt to live, Joseph must die; both of you, swear to me, never to tell about my history, ever. As far as anyone is to know I am one of Potiphar's warriors, my name was Kontar, Pharaoh learned of my second sight and made me vizier."

"What about, Joseph," Kuy asked.

"It has been three years Kuy."

"Still, we must consider Zulika's relatives, what will they do if they ever learn the truth."

"I wouldn't worry about that, Kuy," Joseph said, "snuck out a few days ago and got caught up on the local gossip, its really creepy listening to the many ways you have suffered so many horrific deaths." In many ways the rumors were true, Joseph son of Jacob was now dead, and in his place, an Egyptian nobleman and warrior named Kontar was born.

"Very well, Kontar," Potiphar said softly as he handed Joseph a small box that contained a golden armband, a wide gold and blue collar, and a few other trinkets of jewelry. "I know that you don't especially care for jewelry but for this plan of yours to work you may want to cover up your slave mark or simply cut it up so much that no one will be able to recognize it for what it is, and here take this as well," Potiphar handed Joseph a small scroll that was his bill sale, proof that he was sold thirteen years ago for twenty pieces of silver, "and never, I repeat never lose it, personally I recommend burning it."

"Thank you, Malik," he said. He was grateful that he finally held his bill of sale, yet he knew that it alone did not free him; he knew that, deep inside, he was still little more than a slave, still a tool only now he belonged to the king of Egypt rather than the captain of the guard. _One day I will be free, that I swear,_ Joseph again vowed to himself, but at times he wondered what that word truly meant…

How long had it been since Joseph had truly allowed himself to feel anything at all, he wondered, 12 years…13. It had been so long that he often wondered if he would ever again be able to reconnect to his own emotions. Though in truth he felt something now as he stood under Ra's rays, it was a subtle feeling; one he almost didn't recognize…but he did. It was strange feeling it again-contentment. Who would have thought that he would have thought he would feel content in the land of his bondage, but he did.

Few things could make the life he had here better than it was, then again he had once thought that as a slave. Now that he thought about it he was still a slave only now Pharaoh Senunet was his master. Still within him he still held the peace that he had as a slave and in prison.

"Joseph," Kuy called to him. He stiffened at his true name. Joseph was a slave and prisoner in a foreign land, "I mean Kontar."

 _Kontar,_ the name that Potiphar had called him, his slave name that he had now taken to be his personal name. Pharaoh had done all he could to make Joseph as Egyptian as he could, _father, forgive me,_ he silently asked again as he allowed himself to be reborn as an Egyptian nobleman. For Egypt to live, Joseph had to die.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Joseph wore linen mantel that hid the worst of his scares on his back, a golden armband covered his slave mark and his shackles were replaced with golden ones. His entire body bore scares as did his soul, but as he replaced his 'golden shakles' and the pharaoh's signet ring, he felt himself shut down. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. He was no longer a slave, he no longer was a prisoner, nor was he any longer a son of Israel and yet he was till all of those things as well as Vizier of Egypt, the only thing that stood in the way of Egypt and utter destruction.

As Vizier he no longer had the luxury of emotions, still that didn't matter to him, he had spent the last 13 years without them…but for the last thirteen years he had been nothing but a tool for another to use. In a way he still was but he was also accepted as a human now as well. A human man who would soon be wed to a woman that Pharaoh had chosen for him, looking at the signet ring he wore reached a compromise within himself. He would return to being a human with emotions, only when bound by his duty would he again don the persona of a slave, an emotionless tool who would not be swayed by his heart or feelings.

He again donned his slave persona; it was strangely freeing to accept that he was still a servant. A servant to Pharaoh, king of all Egypt and joseph was the second in all of Egypt only to pharaoh himself

Joseph hated attended feasts, too often they reminded him of his time serving the table rather than eating at it. If not for the iron restraint that he had been forced to perfect during his slavery he would have slipped back into his slave role. He would have to keep himself from slipping back into his slave role. He would have to watch out for that, if he was to gain the respect he would need to save Egypt.

He would have to do much to ensure Egypt's survival, and breaking the habits that he had developed over the last thirteen years was the first thing that he had to do. The urge to move out of everyone's way, to forever avert his blue Horus eyes, lay low and don't draw attention to himself, those were things that had allowed him to survive as a slave but as the Vizier, it would end him and the nation. And that was something that he would not, could not risk.

Asaneth watched as the captain of Senunet's guard lead the new vizier, Zapanapanar. He was handsome, there was no denying that fact, tall and far younger than she would have imagined, he wore a royal headdress, and golden wrist and arm bands, but by far the most striking feature were his sky blue eyes, as well as the sheer mantle he wore. Every time she tried to look at him his blue eyes seemed to stare into her very soul.

"My Pharaoh," he said softly, "your servant must beg your indulgence but it seems as if a lioness is playing tag with some of your...servants. Allow me to tend to this matter." he chuckled as he left the room to take care of the lioness. As the feast descended into entertainment, Asaneth snuck into the garden. There she saw the Vizier lounging under a date tree with the lioness resting her head on his bare chest, and his sunkissed arm rested across the large cat's shoulder.

Asaneth didn't get within three feet of the resting noble man before the large cat woke and began to growl at her. Zapanapanar spoke softly in a language she didn't understand and the cat replaced her head on her paw. Switching to Egyptian he spoke again this time directing his words to her, "you needn't worry, my lady, Gruit will not harm you. She is just a bit over protective of me while I sleep."

"Why do you not sleep in the palace?" she asked, she was sure that pharaoh had given him had a large and luxurious bedchamber in the palace.

"An old habit I'm afraid." he told her skirting around the truth, he hated being confined in anyway, he was raised free in his father's tents, since his betrayal he had done his best to stay free to some extent, as a slave he would sleep outside where he knew that no one would be able to attack him at his most vulnerable or learn of his past. That part he didn't worry too much about, he knew that when he sleep he spoke in his native tongue and few understood it. After he had gained Gruit he was more at peace knowing that no one would try to bother him when the lioness was with him, "I seldom rest well within stone walls."

"Still use to being on campaign?" she asked, he didn't correct her, didn't tell her that he was never in war, that he was no soldier and was merely a slave before. He wanted to...wanted to tell her that he was the slave that she had helped so long ago, but he couldn't. Egypt's fate rested on Joseph's death, "I suppose," he chuckled a bit as he rose, "come we should return."


End file.
